


Kittenwhisper

by Moami



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Confessions, First Kiss, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-05-01 00:32:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5185403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moami/pseuds/Moami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Can you say it? Just once? Te-tsu-rou?” It would be so nice to hear his first name off Kenma’s lips. Maybe he’s an idiot for wishing that. But love makes people do the dumbest, bravest things, even risking a perfectly fine friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kittenwhisper

“So, Kenma,” Tetsurou says as he wraps his arm around Kenma’s shoulders, leaning down to bring their faces close together. “Why don’t you call me by my first name?”

“Oh, I think Lev wants something from me. I have to go. Immediately. Like, right now.” Kenma unscrews himself from Tetsurou’s grip with a twirl, and _wow_ , Tetsurou can see the faint blush spread up his neck, all the way to his ears where he got that silver-glinting piercing through his cartilage, the one that drives Tetsurou insane with the kind of dreams that you don’t talk to anyone about.

“Kenma,” Tetsurou says again, ducking away from a ball that comes flying towards the sideline and hits the wall behind him. Kenma doesn’t even flinch. He just lowers his head and moves, attempting to sneak away from Tetsurou to the court. Oh _hell_ no. Tetsurou hooks a finger into the waistband of his shorts and pulls him back with a hitch.

The squeak that Kenma makes is high-pitched and far too adorable. “Don’t!”

Tetsurou lets go. “I didn’t hear Lev calling your name. You’re disturbing the game if you keep running around.”

“You probably didn’t listen. He definitely – well, maybe he – anyway. I think the coach will call me in any minute now, so we shouldn’t – shouldn’t discuss this now.”

Tetsurou tosses the volleyball he’s been holding over to his other hand and considers Kenma’s red cheeks for a moment. Then he hums. “But we don’t have anything to do right now,” he says, ducking in so his soft voice is heard over the squeaks of sneakers on wood.

Kenma shrugs and keeps his golden eyes focused onto the floor. “Yes, but… dunno. Just. The coach could – I have to be ready. For the game.” He doesn’t try to run again, but the way he stumbles over his words is strange enough. And there’s the colour burning on Kenma’s cheeks that Tetsurou is very much interested in.

This is definitely a first. Because Kenma doesn’t blush. _Ever_.

“Kenma- _a_.” No reply. Tetsurou huffs. “Why don’t you use my first name?”

But Kenma is stubborn when he wants to be. His tiny mouth stays a thin, pale line, his face hidden behind a waterfall of bright-golden hair. It’s not quite enough to hide the embarrassment still shining high on his cheeks.

Tetsurou licks his lips. Huh. He’s found a secret that Kenma is _blushing_ over. His skin _sings_ like a melody.  “Hey, I asked you something. Didn’t you hear me?” He grabs Kenma’s sleeve and pulls him a bit closer. Kenma’s used to Tetsurou touching him and he likes it, usually, but today he just shakes his head and stiffens, like a cat drenched in rainwater. “I really have to – see, he’s in trouble again. Let me go.”

Somewhere on the court, Lev yells. Well, this does sound like an actual problem. But Yaku’s voice echoes right after Lev’s, a whiplash of “what the hell did you do this time – oh my God, what _are_ you even, a snake?!” through the gym, so Tetsurou doesn’t let himself get distracted by it.

“C’mon. Our cat mom can deal with that on his own.” He loosens the grip on Kenma’s sleeve, fingers dancing over the thin curve of his arm, towards his collarbone. Kenma doesn’t allow anyone else to touch him like this – it’s Tetsurou’s privilege, and _his_ alone. “So. My first name, yeah?”

“No. I’m not calling you – no. I should go warm up some more, just in case.”

“Can you say it? Just once? _Te-tsu-rou_?” It would be so nice to hear his first name off Kenma’s lips. Maybe he’s an idiot for wishing that. But love makes people do the dumbest, bravest things, even risking a perfectly fine friendship. If only he was courageous enough to confess, to take Kenma’s hands and – well. He’s not.

And it seems that Tetsurou’s privilege has expired for today anyway, because Kenma’s shoulders hunch up at the touch against his collarbone. His hands fly to peel Tetsurou’s fingers off his skin. “I know your name. I just – look, I have to go, Lev will die or something.”

“Nah, he won’t. He’s survived worse things. What is _up_ with you today?”

“Nothing.” Kenma bites his lip, golden eyes darting to the floor. “Stop staring like that.” Why is he so _goddamn_ beautiful, how can he be so – no. That’s not what this is about.

Tetsurou raises a brow – something isn’t quite right. Kenma’s words are a bit _too_ neutral to seem casual, too low; his tiny tongue flicks across his mouth in a soft, nervous motion, just a second. It’s enough for Tetsurou to frown hard. He tilts his head. “Avoiding me isn’t very nice. What’s wrong?”

Kenma swerves from his glare and says nothing. His feet shuffle over the floor, fingers lacing together, shoulders up to his red-blushed ears. “Kuroo, _please_.”

This is getting weirder by the second.

“Usually you glare back at me when you don’t wanna answer,” Tetsurou says slowly. “And I mean, I’ve been calling you _Kenma_ since we were kids. It’s time you do the same, right?” Maybe he’s made Kenma uncomfortable. Or – how embarrassing can a secret related to Tetsurou’s first name even be? Maybe Kenma’s too shy to call him that? Heh. _Cute_.

Kenma stays quiet, but the sunrise of warmth on his ears speaks for itself. It’ll be hard to get more words out of him, but it’s worth a last try. Before he clams up completely for today. Tetsurou grins and switches to teasing. “Aw, is first name basis _still_ too much for you? After all we’ve been through together?” Childhood, middle school, falling in love with Kenma as easily as if he was born to adore him with all his stupid soul. It’s only a little bit pathetic.

“Stop grinning like that, you look like a pervert. I don’t even– a-anyway. Also, that’s not the reason.” Kenma bends down to fumble with his shoelaces, and Tetsurou steps aside to give him some room. He can’t see Kenma’s face now, but his ears are still an interesting shade of crimson. How much darker can they turn? He’s so cute.

Fuck, and Tetsurou is so gay and in love and Kenma is his everything and still nothing he can ever have.

“Come on, what’s the problem with-”

“I have to go. Looks like _this_ time, Lev will actually strangle himself with the net.”

 _Isn’t Kenma fast when he tries to avoid something._ Tetsurou can only watch his setter dart forward, racing across the court to where Lev has somehow tangled three of his stupidly long limbs into the volleyball net.

Oh, he can’t _wait_ for practice to be over.

Tetsurou tosses the volleyball he’s been playing around with over to Yaku (“don’t throw that at me like I’m a stripper, fucking help me here already – no Lev, _don’t move_!”) and follows Kenma onto the court like a cat that’s found a scent of cream in the air.

 

* * *

 

 

“You know that it’s childish to run away from me, right?”

“Go home alone.”

“Also, I’m faster than you. You can’t outrun me.”

“Good for you. Can we just not talk about this anymore?”

Tetsurou grits his teeth. “No. I told you to wait after practice and you took the chance that I was cleaning and ran away like a coward. This is childish and stupid.”

Kenma raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t look at Tetsurou. “You’re the one who’s acting like a child.”

“Then why don’t you just call me Tetsurou? Problem solved. Easy as that.”

“No.”

“Fuck, why the hell not?!”

“Does it matter?” Kenma shrugs and reaches for his pocket. “I have my reasons. You wouldn’t understand.”

Tetsurou follows the motion with his eyes and – oh hell no. He snatches Kenma’s hand away. “You’re not gonna get out of this by playing a game!” The shape of Kenma’s gaming console shifts in his pocket when he tries to take a step back, but Tetsurou holds onto his wrist and follows right after. He’s angry now –  Kenma’s behaving like a child, and if he doesn’t want to talk – _fine_. Tetsurou throws a quick look around and pulls them into an alley, away from anyone’s curious eyes or ears.

“What are you – Kuroo, I just want to go home.” Kenma tries to twine himself out of Tetsurou’s grip, but fuck, this is too much and he wants his answers now.

Within seconds, Kenma has his back against a wall and Tetsurou has both hands by his head. His mouth is twisted into a pained snarl, eyes narrow, darting over Kenma’s body in an attempt to find any signs that he’s playing tricks on him. But Kenma doesn’t look scared or playful. He’s simply avoiding Tetsurou’s eyes like a goddamn child. His glance is locked to the floor, arms limp by his side. “Just… give it up.” Even the embarrassment from earlier is gone. Kenma just looks exhausted. “It’s not worth it. I told you, you wouldn’t understand, Kuroo.”

That does the trick. He’s so fucking _done_ with this.

“It’s always Kuroo here, Kuroo there. It’s so impersonal, as if you don’t know me at all. We’re not just teammates. We’re not goddamn strangers. You’re literally the one person who knows me best, out of _everyone_! You’re – you are just–”

And then his lungs are empty and his heart hurts so raw and deep that Tetsurou curls his hands into fists, letting go of Kenma, trying to breathe, failing, everything dark and scary because _this is it._ This is his time to be a fool, because he’s never going to be this brave again and Kenma deserves to know, and Tetsurou loves him more than he could ever have words for so _yes_ , he’s going to be stupid and either ruin everything – or do the right thing for once in his fucking life.

He shouldn’t be so angry about a dumb first name. He shouldn’t yell or get upset. But maybe he’s just been in love for too many years. Maybe he can’t hurt in silence anymore.

In the end, it’s Kenma who speaks up before Tetsurou can. “Yes. I know who you are.” His body goes numb and falls back to the wall that Tetsurou has cornered him against. “You always pay so much attention to me.” His bag drops down when he brings both hands to his face and scrubs them over his eyes. “You keep watching me, and I don’t know _why_ , I don’t know why you’re so attentive and – it’s your fault. _You_ did this.”

Tetsurou can barely understand what he’s saying. “I did _what_?”

Kenma doesn’t reply. His words are slow, as if he chooses every single one carefully and weaves them together into a bare whisper. And, fuck, Tetsurou has never heard something like that in his voice. “I swore it to myself. That I would call you Tetsurou after I told you how I feel. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t just – it’s not that _easy_ , Kuroo. Not for me.”

And Tetsurou watches his best friend, the boy that he loves so much it hurts, almost slide down the wall because his knees are about to give in. His shoulders are shaking so hard, and he – he glances up at Tetsurou, hands dropping, to reveal something wet shimmering around Kenma’s wide eyes, mouth open in a search for words.

It’s fear. Kenma is _scared_.

“What? Why – why would you be-” Tetsurou watches Kenma tremble, sees the anxiety bleed over his face like rain, and his grip on Kenma’s shoulders tightens. “Hey, you don’t have to tell me, it’s okay, shh. God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t wanna force you to say things you don’t want to.”

“It’s because you’re _you_!” Kenma _screams_ , a shivering roar that echoes in Tetsurou’s veins and curls around the centre of his chest.

Tetsurou can’t move. He stares down at his best friend, his mouth agape, shock rolling through his veins. That outburst of emotion is more than he’s ever expected.

“I – _fuck_. God, Kenma, I’m sorry.” He shouldn’t have told him, this is all _his_ fault –

“No, listen. _Listen to me_.” Kenma’s fingers clench in his shirt, tearing at it, before they still. The touch is a red-hot burn, searing into his skin. “I couldn’t say anything because I’m just… I’m not what you – who you usually… I didn’t think you’d want to, with me. That we could ever be _something_.”

Something?

Wait. Could Kenma be – no.

_Yes?_

“I want us to be something.” Kenma leans against his chest, a small hand trembling where it rests on Tetsurou’s heart and conjures a storm inside his blood. “If you ever said you liked me, I wanted to say it back like that. With your name, your first name.” He bites his lip and his voice dies down until nothing but a weak shiver is left of it, and it breaks Tetsurou’s heart. “You make me feel like this, and I don’t know why.”

“I wish I had a middle name.” The words just come out, and at first he doesn’t even know what they mean.

Kenma looks like he’s choking on his own voice. But Tetsurou just pulls him close, wraps an arm around him and pulls him close. His breath curls into the empty universe where Kenma trembles against his chest, where he allows the touch, the warmth between their bodies melting. Tetsurou closes him into an embrace as tight as he can, until the air between them is gone and Kenma is close enough to feel Tetsurou’s heartbeat.

“Kuroo?”

No. That name has never sounded more wrong on Kenma’s lips.

“I would give it to you, and you could call me that. You say you don’t know if I want you? That you’re not what I usually – what? What I look for in a partner? _Fuck that._ Fuck what I had before you. Dates, kisses, fuck all that.” Tetsurou leans his forehead against Kenma’s and watches the sunlight return to his eyes, the dark fading away.

“Tetsurou,” Kenma says. He looks like he might cry.

Breathing in is the hardest thing he’s ever done.

“We’ve always been something. You’re my best friend, but I want to be something else to you.” He reaches up to cradle Kenma’s cheek, touches so soft and careful against the corner of his mouth. Kenma stares at him. His throat moves when he swallows, once, a shiver running down his spine, and then he lets his head fall into the reverent offering of Tetsurou’s hand.

Tetsurou cannot breathe.

Kenma’s golden eyes slide shut. And as he turns his head to kiss the web of skin between Tetsurou’s thumb and forefinger, it’s so natural to finally say it.

“I’ve only been waiting for you, kitten.”

“Really?” Kenma asks, his voice tiny. “That nickname? Of all the cat puns you have available, of all the names to give me, you choose _that one_? That’s weak, Tetsurou.”

And Tetsurou wants to kiss him. He wants to lift Kenma off the ground and cradle him into his arms and carry him home. He wants to hold him in his arms at night and wake up by his side and more than anything, Tetsurou wants to hear his name from Kenma’s lips for the rest of their lives.

His grin must look manic. Has he ever been this happy? “Yeah, really. You know me.” And then he just has to grin some more, until it turns into a chuckle that rises inside his chest only to explode in a whole-hearted burst of giggles. “Fuck, I’m such an idiot.”

“You did say some really sappy things just now,” Kenma says, and his voice has never been softer, the blurred edge of desperation from earlier broken off and lost somewhere between their first names. “But I still like you.”

“I really, really want to kiss you right now.”

Kenma’s golden eyes are pure sunlight when he smiles. His nod is slow, still carrying traces of anxiety that Tetsurou swears he will smooth out with all the gentleness in the world.

He watches Kenma close his eyes when their foreheads touch, until Kenma’s fingers reach for his own, and he can finally swallow the insecurity from those lips he may have known for years, centuries, as long as his memories go back.

 

* * *

 

 

“When we’re alone, I could call you something else, if you’d like that.”

Kenma’s fingers dance over Tetsurou’s chest, restless, twitching whenever they brush across where his heart beats like thunder. They’re on Tetsurou’s bed now, because holding hands in public is still something that Kenma’s uncomfortable with, and Tetsurou’s room has a lock. There’s also homework they should be doing, but neither of them really cares. Not when their fingers can touch and trace, and when Kenma says things that make his heart thunder like a hurricane above the roaring ocean.

Tetsurou has to swallow hard to ground himself. God, this can’t be real. It’s impossible that he’s really this lucky, right? “What would you wanna call me, kitten?”

“Don’t use that name, it’s so stupid.” But the way Kenma shivers when Tetsurou whispers the word, his lips curling into an almost hidden smile, has Tetsurou pull him closer and kiss his hair. Kenma allows it, slides deeper into his embrace.

“Do tell. I’m curious. Don’t worry, I won’t be mad if it’s something stupid.”

“It’s not. I think it fits you.”

“Yeah? Well, shoot.”

There’s a long abyss of silence before Kenma speaks again. He whispers, shy, almost inaudible, hiding his face in the curve of Tetsurou’s neck where it rests on the pillow.

“…Rou.”

“What?”

“I said _Rou_ ,” Kenma mumbles. His cheeks are warm and red and Tetsurou simply has to touch them. His fingertips rest against Kenma’s temples, and this is a new blooming tenderness he never thought he could give. It’s never been like this with his dates or those girls he’s gone out with. Kenma blinks up at him from below, his pupils blown wide in the dim light. Tetsurou swallows once more. Kenma’s skin is relaxed and warm below his touch.

Kindness. Taking it slow. Being gentle. He’s gonna have to learn this.

He can. He will. And he fucking _wants_ to, for Kenma, for his –

“Jesus – I don’t even know what to say, kitten,” Tetsurou says. He closes his eyes, feeling Kenma’s expression shift underneath the touch of his fingers.

“Are you honestly going to keep up this kitten thing?”

“If you like it.” It’s an honest answer. Tetsurou lets it hang mid-air, doesn’t push, doesn’t turn it into a joke.

Kenma stays quiet for a moment. And just when Tetsurou wants to pulls his fingers back, Kenma leans in and kisses him. It’s not more than a feather-light touch of lips, a warm tickle of breath tingling at the corners of Tetsurou’s mouth. But it’s enough for him to understand. Kenma’s body language is still the same, even curled in Tetsurou’s arms and giving him that tiny feline smirk that drives Tetsurou insane.

“I see. You do like it, after all.”

Kenma groans and pushes himself off of Tetsurou’s chest. “Stop being so smug. We have homework to do.”

“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed, kitten.”

Kenma throws a pencil at his head and drops a small pile of papers he’s pulled out of his bag onto Tetsurou’s chest. “Go copy my notes already, you lazy idiot.”

Tetsurou obeys, for once – but before he gets to work, he reaches for Kenma’s chin and pulls him down for another slow kiss. “Thank you,” he says, and smiles.

Kenma blushes furiously and quickly turns his head away. “You’re welcome.”

“Hey, you didn’t protest the nickname. It’s settled then… _kitten_.”

“Don’t push your luck, _Rou_ , or I’ll go back to your last name.”

“Nah, you won’t. You love me too much.”

Kenma doesn’t argue with that, but he still throws a pillow at Tetsurou’s face. It may have been a little gentler than usual, and for him, that’s enough. Kenma is enough. He’s all Tetsurou’s ever wanted and dreamed of, and being allowed to kiss him is better than any wish Tetsurou’s ever sent to shooting stars on warm summer nights, back when they were still kids and he didn’t know that there was a word for this feeling called “love”.


End file.
